


In Which Enjolras is Done with his Parents

by prouveyrac



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Nonbinary Jehan, also this is the first time im writing les mis in months, and i needed to get it out, bc my parents were saying a lot of shit today, but hey summer parties are fun, honestly idk how good this is, i was just writing my feelings, this is pre e/r tbh, trans man enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 19:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3821851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prouveyrac/pseuds/prouveyrac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not that Enjolras hated his parents. Not… really. He just… can’t believe the shit that comes out of their mouth sometimes. It wasn’t blunt prejudice, though. It was the kind you hear at the dinner table of family parties; the kind worked into movies and TV shows you watched when you were young; the kind that is ingrained into your head so deep, it takes years to unlearn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Enjolras is Done with his Parents

**Author's Note:**

> okay i had a lot of jarred up feelings and anger today, so instead of staying like that, i decided to write this. i haven't written for les mis in months, and it felt refreshing tbh.
> 
> but, hey, enjoy <3
> 
> follow me on tumblr @ francisxabernathy !!!

It’s not that Enjolras hated his parents. Not… really. He just… can’t believe the _shit_ that comes out of their mouth sometimes. It wasn’t blunt prejudice, though. It was the kind you hear at the dinner table of family parties; the kind worked into movies and TV shows you watched when you were young; the kind that is ingrained into your head so deep, it takes years to unlearn.

On the other hand, it’s not like he worshipped his parents or idolized them really. He wasn’t even fond of them. It’s hard to when, you know, they refuse to accept that Enjolras is gay and a boy. Of course they know, and to his face they address him with his pronouns, but he hears them when he’s not around. He hears how they actually address him to other friends and family members.

Honestly, Enjolras would have already said something with all they have said and done tonight. He would have blown up in their faces because he’s only home for another three weeks until the summer ends and university starts up again. He could deal with three weeks of awkwardness and tension.

But tonight is a “huge night” for Enjolras’ father. It’s some sort of party to celebrate some type of promotion and family, friends, and coworkers are here. It’s not like Enjolras cares about _that_ aspect, he just doesn’t want to be lectured about how he is “ruining the family reputation” or… whatever.

Personally, he didn’t feel like going downstairs and actually socialize with everyone and act like he cares about what they’re talking about. Though, he also isn’t in the mood to stay up in his room and do, essentially, nothing.

So, he decided that he would go to Courfeyrac’s, who is currently having a party with much better people at it. It’s… something for… someone in his household, he really doesn’t know. Nevertheless, his family loves Enjolras, so they’ll let him in.

He went out the porch and down the stairs to the backyard; it would be quite _embarrassing_ if he was caught sneaking out through the _front door._

The warm summer breeze still hung in the air. As he walked out of the back yard and into the front and down the driveway, he could still hear light music playing and talking flowing out through the open windows. No one seemed to notice that he was just outside the house.

If Enjolras was being honest, he was sure no one was questioning where he was.

He could hear Courfeyrac’s house before he saw it. Shouting from outside, loud music, booming laughter (Enjolras assumed it was Bahorel).

When Enjolras officially arrived at his friend’s house (a mansion, really), he could hear his friends’ voice coming from the back. He pushed open the gate, knowing neither Courfeyrac nor his mother would mind.

Jehan, Courfeyrac, Joly, and Combeferre were having a chicken fight in the pool was the first thing he saw. Then his eyes went over Bahorel and Feuilly, Bahorel who was sitting at the outside bar and Feuilly who was working the grill. Enjolras then furrowed his eyebrows, scanning for Bossuet. Wherever Joly was, Bossuet was never far behind. He then found him, talking to someone he didn’t recognize. From what he could see, the stranger had dark, unruly curls, a slumped posture-

“Enjolras?”

Enjolras’ head turned at Jehan’s call just in time to see their look of confusion, and then them being pushed off Courfeyrac’s shoulders by Joly.

Enjolras couldn’t help but laugh as he went over to the pool, squatting down by the side.

“I thought you said you weren’t coming,” Jehan said as they resurfaced. Enjolras nodded as Courfeyrac swam over to the side.

“Yes, dearest Enjolras, that’s what you told me,” Courfeyrac said, looking up at him. “I must be honest, my mother was quite offended when she heard that you weren’t coming to her summer party and instead staying at some boring work party.”

He scoffed and called a greeting to the others before answering Courfeyrac. “It’s not like I _wanted_ to be there, I _had_ to be there.”

“And yet, here you are,” Combeferre noted.

Enjolras groaned, sitting down on the bricks of the pool deck. “It was horrid,” Enjolras declared. “I was not able to just sit there and act like I’m interested in what they’re saying.”

“Sounds like you need a drink, Chief,” Bahorel called to him, a grin on his face. “Virgin, of course.”

“That would be great, thanks Bahorel,” Enjolras called back.

“Well, Enjolras, I can assure you that here is much more interesting,” Courfeyrac said, beaming.

“Oh I am well aware,” Enjolras agreed, “I’d rather be here than my own house.” Bahorel then came over with a drink before sitting down next to Enjolras.

“So, did I miss anything interesting?” Enjolras asked, accepting the drink. He hoped someone would bring up the stranger across the pool, talking to Bossuet. Whenever he looked at them, he could swear that the stranger was looking at him too.

“Well, you missed one of my boyfriends turning against me in this riveting game of chicken,” Jehan pouted overdramatically, looking at Combeferre.

“Would you rather Bossuet be holding Joly?” Combeferre asked.

“Fair point.”

“Hey, Jehan,” Courfeyrac piped up. “I think we make a great team _without_ Ferre.”

“Courf, I love you, and you know that, but we keep losing,” Jehan pointed out.

“What can I say, I’m 165 centimeters of pure power!” Joly laughed.

Enjolras laughed too and nodded. “That you are, Joly,” he said. “And hey, who-”

“Food’s ready, guys!” Feuilly hollered from where he was standing, just finishing up putting burgers on to buns.

“Come eat with us,” Combeferre said, climbing out of the pool. “We’ll continue catching you up on what you missed.”

Enjolras nodded as the rest of his friends got out of the pool.

(He didn’t really care that he was getting wet. It’s not like he’s going to be wearing this suit much.)

Though, when Courfeyrac got out of the pool, he just sat back down next to Enjolras. “So the party was that bad?” His voice was quiet and he had a look of general concern.

Enjolras sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s all centered around uptight people who don’t care about anyone but themselves,” he started. “And, during these parties, my parents just drop everything I’ve told them. They only referred to me as their son, like, once, and it was only when they were talking directly to me with no one around.”

Courfeyrac frowned. “I’m really sorry about that, Enjolras.”

Enjolras shrugged. “It’s nothing, really. I mean, we go back to school in three weeks, and we all go to vacation houses for holidays, so it’s not like I’ll see them much…”

“Still…” Courfeyrac trailed off, biting his lip. “Can I give you a hug? You’ll get soaked but you look like you need a hug…”

Enjolras smiled, nodding. “Of course.”

Courfeyrac hugged him tightly. It felt comforting to Enjolras. Being with his friends in general felt comforting. They respected him and loved him for who he is. So, even if he did eventually cut ties from his family, he would still have one.

“And besides, my mother could always adopt you!” Courfeyrac exclaimed, pulling away. “Julian Courfeyrac has a nice ring to it.”

“That it does,” Enjolras agreed, standing and helping Courfeyrac up. “Now, tell me, who’s the stranger?” He nodded to the one sitting next to Joly.

“Oh, that’s Grantaire,” Courfeyrac said. “He’s my new roommate this year. He transferred to our university. He’s a great guy and a party to be around.” He took a towel off one of the chairs and wrapped it around his waist.

“He’s cute,” Enjolras murmured. He must not have thought that one out, because suddenly Courfeyrac just gave him this look and Enjolras started to shake his head rapidly. “Courfeyrac, _no_ -”

“Oh my God, _Enjolras_ ,” Courfeyrac whispered excitedly. “You two have to meet! Well, _obviously_ you’re going to, but you know what I mean! I could set you up! You two can get to know each other right now!”

“Courfeyrac-” Enjolras said, trying to stop his friend from scheming. Though, of course, he couldn’t.

There were only two empty seats left. One next to Jehan, one next to Grantaire. It should be obvious which one Courfeyrac took.

Enjolras bit his lip, walking over to the table. He grabbed a plate and some food before sitting next to Grantaire. He could feel Courfeyrac watching the two of them. “Uh, hey, I’m Enjolras,” he said, offering his hand to Grantaire.

“Oh so you’re Enjolras,” Grantaire noted, shaking his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Enjolras furrowed his eyebrows. He cocked his head to the side. “Like what?”

“Fearless leader of… Les Amis, I think it’s called? Joly tells me you’re intelligent, Feuilly says you’re not as intimidating as you might seem. I think Bahorel once told me that looking into your eyes is like looking into the abyss and the abyss looks back-”

“Dammit R, I said that’s what his _death glare_ is like!” Bahorel exclaimed quite loudly across the table, causing Jehan on his left to jump, and Feuilly on his right to roll his eyes. He then indicated to Enjolras. “See, that’s it. I currently feel like the abyss is staring at me.”

“If you keep saying that, he’s never going to look away,” Feuilly pointed out.

“You should’ve learned that by now, Bahorel,” Bossuet said, grinning.

Enjolras sighed, turning back to Grantaire. “Anyway-... wait, did he call you R?”

Grantaire nodded, smirking. “Yeah, because, well, Grantaire, Capital R.”

Enjolras couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“And I’ve been told that you laugh at horrible puns.”

Dinner went by with an ease. It was just the nine of them, and they all got on well. Enjolras found Grantaire interesting to talk to. He too was well informed on politics, thought Enjolras quickly discovered that the two of them don’t see eye-to-eye on such.

“But how can you be so cynical?” Enjolras suddenly asked him a while after dinner. It was just him and Grantaire sitting at the edge of the pool. Enjolras had his pants rolled up so he could dip his feet in the water. The other seven were back in the pool, playing a rather laid back (and, to be honest, terrible) game of volleyball.

Grantaire shrugged. “I don’t know, just always have been. After the world kicking your ass over and over, you get sick of it. So I don’t really think that much can be changed. I mean, yeah, you can have hope, but that’s all it is. Hope: an expectation, a desire, a wish.”

“But don’t you think that if enough is done, something can be changed?” Enjolras inquired, resting back on his elbows.

Grantaire looked at him over his shoulders. “There have been many revolutions of people who have done enough. Though, some of the revolutions fail and people die, or it succeeds but whatever is the outcome is destroyed and people are disappointed.”

“But there have been successful revolutions that have helped a country entirely!” Enjolras exclaimed.

“But what about the revolutions where countries were torn apart?” Grantaire shot back. “Those countries weren’t helped at all, they were hindered.”

Enjolras sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Well, I refuse to be cynical.”

“Okay,” Grantaire said, shrugging. “But, if I’m being honest, I don’t think this is a conversation for a party. Too… tense. Maybe we can talk about this another time?”

“Well, you’re always free to come to Les Amis-”

“I was thinking out of that,” Grantaire cut in. “Like, maybe over coffee, or dinner.”

Enjolras couldn’t help but blush. “A-A date?” He stammered.

Grantaire nodded, smiling. “Yeah, a date.”

Enjolras nodded quickly. “I- I’d like that.”

When Enjolras went home that night, no one questioned where he had been. Perhaps no one noticed he was gone for a while. The party was crowded and lasted a long time, no one really cared about where he was.

But, if he’s being honest, he doesn’t care about who they are and what they are doing, either.


End file.
